Opposite Day
by Niente Zero
Summary: One shot. Fraser cuts loose, but fortunately Ray is there to pick up the pieces.


**Author's note: This is a one-shot set early in season one. My brain demanded some drunken mountie angst.**

**Disclaimer: Do not own. Do not make money. Just want to rokk.**

_Those who can't quite function_

_In society at large_

_Are gonna wake up on this morning_

_And find that they're in charge_

_While those the worlds set up for_

_Who are really doing quite well_

_Gonna wake up institutions_

_In prison or in hell_

_And today was s'posed to be_

_Opposite day_

_Opposite Day_ - Andrew Byrd

Ray Vecchio was whistling as he bounded up the stairs to Benton Fraser's tiny apartment. For once he didn't even care that the elevator was out of order. He had a plan. The strange Canadian who'd come into his life recently clearly needed to let his hair down. Ray had decided, after getting off duty, that this was the night for it. It was just eight o'clock, it was a Thursday night, and the whole of Chicago awaited their pleasure.

He was very surprised to find a note stuck to the mountie's door, and even more surprised to read it. "Gone to the bar." was all it said. Fraser hadn't been expecting Ray, but apparently he'd left a note just in case anyone needed him. Typical. Ray scratched his head. What bar? As far as he knew the Canadian had only been in one bar since arriving in Chicago a few months ago, and the first time the bar had sort of accidentally been destroyed, the second time had been less eventful but still involved everyone in the bar drawing a gun. Still. "Gone to the bar." What other bar could it be? Ray's jaunty whistling was done. He walked back down the stairs and drove thoughtfully to the dive bar.

Ray pushed open the door to the bar and the bartender jumped. "Oh, no." he said. "Don't you be starting any trouble in my bar."

Ray smiled. "Off duty. Just looking for my friend."

The bartender glowered thunderously and jerked his head toward a table in the corner. Sure enough, there was Fraser in his jeans and thick plaid jacket, with a small glass in front of him.

"How many's he had?" Ray asked.

"One." the bartender growled. "And he paid in Canadian money."

Ray pushed his way over to where Fraser was sitting.

"You know, there are nicer bars."

Fraser signaled the bartender for another drink. Ray asked for a jack and coke.

"I don't want a nicer bar." Fraser said dryly. "This bar is fine."

The bartender brought their drinks over. "Thank you- " Benton said, clearly clipping the end of his sentence. He swallowed his drink in one mouthful, making a wry face. Ray picked up the glass and sniffed it. Neat whiskey.

"What are you doing, Benny?" he asked. "This isn't like you."

"I'm going to the bar, and having a drink." Benton said. "A perfectly normal American pass-time."

"Are you okay?" Ray asked solicitously.

"Never been better, I'm sure, Ray." Benton said.

"No, really. What's going on?"

"What's going on? Well, Ray, do you know what I did today? I stood at attention for four hours while people walked past and stared. A small child stuck his ice-cream cone to my leg, and why he had an ice-cream cone in the middle of winter I do not know, but it is a fact that he stuck it to my leg. Then when I was done being on display, I sat in my office for four more hours and filled out forms in triplicate explaining my actions the last time I got injured in the line of duty. Then I went home and performed an hour of calisthenics, walked my wolf, ate a light, healthy supper, changed into a set of perfectly sensible pyjamas and went to bed."

Ray shrugged. "Sounds like a normal day." he said.

"Does it?" Benton gestured for a third drink. "Well, I couldn't sleep, and I started to think, what if this isn't all there is? What if everything I've always thought was right was a mistake? I could hear people outside having fun. But no, I have to be up early in the morning. I have a duty to my country."

"Well, you could ease up and have a little fun, yeah. I was just coming to take you out on the town." Ray said.

Fraser didn't seem to have heard him. He had a distant look in his eyes and there was a peculiar edge to his voice.

"I mean, all of my life I've done what people wanted me to do. Be good, Ben, don't cry Ben, study hard Ben, be tough, Ben, be polite Ben. I did everything that everyone said I should. I always tried to do the right thing. I joined the Mounted Police like I was supposed to. I always went out and got my man and brought him back to justice. Or her. And what do I get for it? I get sent away from my home, I get to do the right thing again and not make some important people look bad, even if it means exile for me."

He swallowed the third drink.

"Enough." Ray said. "I don't know what's going on in that mountie mind of yours, but that stuff ain't water."

"You want to know what I'm going to do?" Benton leaned close, whispering conspiratorially with a gleam in his eyes. "I'm going to find out what I'm missing out on. I'm going to get really, really drunk. And I'm going to consort with women of light virtue." he waved at a figure in a miniskirt at the bar who smiled and wiggled fingers back at him. "Although, Lola seems like a lovely girl and I'm not sure I can trifle with her affections. But I'm ... well, I fully intend to consort."

Ray did a double take, looking at the person at the bar. "For starters, Benny, Lola's a man."

"Oh. Well, nobody's perfect, Ray. And anyway. I'm not done. When I've had enough to drink, I'm going to... participate in a bar fight. That does seem to be a traditional conclusion to festivities down here."

Ray rolled his eyes. "You know, there's such a thing as moderation."

"I don't want to be moderate, Ray. I've been moderate all my life!" Benton gesticulated.

Ray shook his head. "Nah, what did you just tell me? There's nothing moderate about living your entire life to someone else's expectations of duty. Moderation isn't about being a perfect saint or a total sinner. Moderation would be coming with me to a nicer bar, just one drink, maybe two. We'd find some good girls to consort with, maybe go dancing."

"No, Ray, when I do a thing, I do it right." Benton insisted. Then he leaned over to a man at the table behind him and said: "Excuse me, but my friend here just wanted to express to you that he finds the way that your mother prepares breakfast to be most satisfactory."

"Huh?" The man at the table, who was both large and inebriated, said.

Ray started to translate Benton-to-English by force of habit when he realized what he was saying. "Oh, shit." he said, ducking as the drunken man stood up, picked up his chair and swung it at Ray.

"Sorry Ray, it had to be done." Benton said, standing up and throwing a punch at the chair-wielder.

"Oh my god. You are banned from my bar!" the bartender yelled at Ray as generalized mayhem broke out. It was amazing the way that one person swinging a chair could have a ripple effect. One man would step backward to avoid the spreading chaos, and in the process elbow another man, and the elbowed man would consider that an invitation to begin swinging. It was an exponential effect that would have thrilled any mathematician.

Benton had a drunken grin on his face. Ray supposed that the paperwork for getting injured outside the line of duty would at least be a change. But rather unfairly, Ray felt, three neat whiskeys in close succession apparently didn't impair Fraser's physical grace, and it was almost a pleasure to watch as he ducked out from under punches and returned them with interest. Ray grabbed his arm and dragged him, protesting, toward the entrance of the bar.

Pulling him out the door, Ray turned to Fraser. "I can't believe you just did that." he said.

Benton looked at him with wide, innocent eyes. "What? I didn't start it, technically. That gentleman could have chosen to react in a more proportionate manner. I just defended you when he started expressing himself with the help of the furniture."

Ray stared at Benton. "My god. I never thought I'd say I want you to be more uptight, but I got a feeling you have no business drinking that much."

Benton laughed, leaning against the wall of the bar where the brawl was still audibly raging. "Raymond Vecchio, loosen up. You know what I want to do now? I want to go and find what they refer to as a greasy spoon, and consume a meal entirely of calories produced by combining simple carbohydrates with saturated fats and salt. Are you with me?"

Ray shrugged. "One, I don't know how you can still talk incomprehensibly while schnookered, and two, that's the first sensible thing you've said all night."

The next morning Benton Fraser woke in his small apartment with a crashing headache. As he got up and dressed under the disapproving eyes of his wolf, Diefenbaker, he tried to piece together the night before. He remembered leaving to go to the bar, but after that things got kind of weird. As he walked to the consulate he fretted over what had happened. But nothing was coming to him. He could surmise from the bruises on his knuckles that things had got ugly at some point. He wished the world would stop being so bright and noisy. Arriving at the consulate he immediately called Ray.

"Good morning, Ray." he said.

"Frase, how's your head this morning? Three sizes bigger than usual?" Ray asked.

"I must admit, I feel a little under the weather. What exactly happened last night?"

"You don't remember?" Ray said.

"No. I'm afraid not. Did I make a spectacle of myself?"

The mountie sounded forlorn. Ray sighed. "You don't remember at all? Man, you have no tolerance for alcohol. Well, it was like this. You had a drink. I arrived at the bar. You noticed some unsavory types follow a young lady out of the bar so we went outside to reason with them. There was a bit of a fracas, but you saved the young lady's honor and purse for that matter, and then I took you home. You really don't remember?" he said anxiously. He sure hoped he sounded convincing. What the honorable, scrupulous and upright mountie didn't need was another reason to get down on himself.

"Not a thing, Ray." Benton's voice sounded like a heavy weight had been lifted. "But I'm glad to hear that I seem to have behaved properly. I was rather concerned that I might have done something, well, regrettable."

"Yeah, Benny, you were fine." Ray said softly. "But man, you're wound up so tight you scare me. One of these days we're going to have to do something about that. You gotta learn how to take a night off and have some fun, because apparently it's not a natural ability."

"I think I'd like that, Ray." Benton said. "I think I'd like that very much."


End file.
